


Marooned

by LouLa



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-12
Updated: 2011-12-12
Packaged: 2017-12-08 20:52:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/765892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LouLa/pseuds/LouLa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sink or swim; Edward's options are no better than that when he's forced by his Captain to either learn to get along with Jasper or die fighting against him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marooned

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for violence. Pirates and angry sex and sword fights, oh my.
> 
> Written for Strae's birthday. Thanks to Mar for the beta!

Jasper lands a well-aimed blow to Edward's face just moments before they are roughly being pulled apart. Edward can taste the blood, but he's not entirely sure where it's coming from ― his busted open lip or his throbbing nose. Blind with rage, he tries to lurch forward, hands clawing out for any part of Jasper that he can reach. He throws himself hard enough that his feet lift off the ship's deck, though unfortunately, he is tightly restrained by several strong arms and his effort is without reward.

He does the only thing he can do from afar and spits, hitting Jasper and half of the men around him with blood and saliva. Jasper yells, straining against his own confinement, face screwed up with the madness of a savage. Edward grins, challenging and fierce.

"Just you wait until there's no one around. I'll kill you," Jasper hisses across the distance between them, loud enough to be heard over the sound of waves licking at the side of the ship.

"Promise?" Edward asks sweetly. He has no doubt that Jasper would _try_ to kill him ― what he doubts is his ability to succeed.

Jasper's muscles are pulled taught, straining as he continues to fight for freedom, sweat making his curls mat down flat against his skull. Edward is struggling just as forcefully, and equally as futilely.

"Enough!"

In an instant, everyone stands ramrod straight; chin up, eyes forward, hands at their sides. Edward spares Jasper one last longing look before the Captain is upon them.

"I've had it with the both of you," he roars.

Edward tightens his jaw and clenches his fists, awaiting his punishment.

Carlisle Cullen is a good captain. He's a kind man, but he's a pirate, and a captain at that. One can only push a man so far before he snaps. Edward has heard stories of how very precise his Captain can be with a whip. He knows he won't be given another warning, and the only thing keeping him from being afraid is the knowledge that Jasper will be getting the exact same treatment as Edward. Carlisle is nothing if not fair. It almost makes it worth it, knowing they'll both suffer at Carlisle's hand.

Ice-blue eyes draw level with Edward's, heavy with disappointment and glazed over in a way that makes Edward swallow a little fearfully.

"You made me a promise," Carlisle says.

Edward blinks, dropping his gaze down to his Captain's boots. "I'm sorry," he whispers, a sharp jab of shame and guilt hitting him right in the gut like a swift punch.

"It's too late for apologies." Edward licks his lips, looking back up to meet Carlisle's eyes, but before he can swear that it won't happen again, Carlisle says, "Your promises mean nothing to me now."

Carlisle turns away quickly, leaving Edward sputtering for something to say, and crosses to the other side of the ship in a few long strides. He stands in front of Jasper, whose jaw is still jutting out in defiance, leveling the older blond with a belligerent stare.

The likeliness between the two men has always struck Edward as strange. He's found himself wondering often what their relation is, if there is one. The resemblance is uncanny, but no one ever speaks of a blood tie between the Captain and the deckhand, which gives Edward pause in his curiosity to ask. Since Edward has been aboard the Esmeralda, he's not heard even a rumor of Carlisle being a father.

Seeing them stand face to face, it's easy to pick out the similarities ― the same eyes and fair hair, a closeness in skin tone, height, and build. But the differences stand out too ― Jasper has a thinner, more delicate face than any pirate should, his mouth is fuller and redder, though that could be from the several times Edward has hit him there, and their posture couldn't be less similar. Their accents also differ greatly, Edward has noticed. The most prominent difference, however, is the fact that Edward doesn't constantly wish Carlisle dead.

"Captain," Edward hears Emmett say tentatively from somewhere beside him. It's the fact that Emmett never speaks in a tentative manner that draws him back to the present.

"Anyone who cares to question my decision will earn a whipping and spend three nights in a brig, without food or water."

It's only then that Edward realizes Carlisle has drawn his sword and is urging Jasper in Edward's direction. Edward's eyes widen as he looks around at his fellow 'hands, the men that have quickly become his friends. He sees their stricken faces, the way most of them look in shock, frightened. Surely Carlisle doesn't mean to _kill_ Jasper and Edward.

Emmett warily steps forward. "Captain, it's simply that we're four full days' sail from Tortuga and can't afford to spare any hands, even the foolish ones, sir."

"You'll receive your punishment when I'm through with these two," the Captain growls.

Edward draws in a tight, shaky breath, turning wild eyes to Jasper, who stands close enough to touch, but Edward can't even think about swinging at him now ― he doesn't even remember which of them started their most recent fight or what it was over; something petty, no doubt, and it's going to cost them both their lives. Jasper remains stoic, jaw set and eyes sharp as diamonds.

Emmett ― foolhardy, stupid, lovable Emmett ― steps in again as Carlisle pushes both Edward and Jasper closer to the edge of the ship with the threateningly sharp blade of his sword.

"These are shark-infested waters, they'll never make it with the scent of blood on the both of them."

"One more word, and you'll be joining them," Carlisle warns.

Emmett wisely steps back, but not before giving both Jasper and Edward an apologetic look and a sad smile.

Edward turns his head back to see that the plank is just a few steps behind them. The sentence their Captain granted them clearly meant they were going overboard, in shark-infested waters, no less; as good as a death sentence then.

The beam trembles beneath their combined weight as they're backed onto it and Carlisle lowers his sword slightly, eyes going soft with regret, pity. Edward's racing heart jumps up into his throat with hope.

"I do hope you have learned from your mistakes, as this is your final chance. You will either aid each other's survival, or you will both die. We shall return in a fortnight to collect you. God help the both of you."

With that, he swings his sword. Jasper jumps backward, narrowly avoiding the sword that nearly cuts him in two, and knocks them both into the crystal-blue water below.

The salty ocean burns in Edward's lungs when he inhales the water and it smarts at his open cuts. He kicks his feet as hard as he can, breaking the surface with a sputtering gasp for breath. He spins around to see the ship sailing away. Treading water, he watches his life disappear before his eyes. The Esmeralda had been his last hope; Carlisle had given him a job and a place to live, the possibility to start over, and Edward had thrown it away.

Jasper's head bobs up out of the water not far off. He takes one look at Edward before rolling his eyes and swimming as fast and hard as he can in the opposite direction that the ship is headed. There's land in the distance, Edward notices belatedly.

It's the feeling of something brushing up against his ankle that gets him moving. The blood that taints the water pink around his wounds is going to get him killed if he doesn't reach land, and fast. It would do him well to start paying closer attention. Perhaps if he would have been listening when Carlisle condemned them to this miserable plight, he wouldn't have had to follow Jasper. At least if Jasper had been behind him, he would have been the one more likely to be eaten by a shark.

Alas, Edward is forced to follow Jasper along, hoping beyond hope that he won't get picked off and torn to shreds this early on.

Jasper is already in water shallow enough to stand in when Edward hears the splashing behind him. Jasper has reached the safety of the shore, but Edward is still far enough out to know that there's really only one thing that could be swimming up behind him ― or perhaps several of the same things. He's not stupid enough to turn around to look; he's already swimming as hard as he can, but it's not going to be enough.

His vision is blurred from the water in his eyes and his heart is beating so hard in his water-clogged ears that he barely hears Jasper's frantic sounding, "Swim faster!"

He kicks against something solid, and gets a mouthful of water when he attempts to gasp for breath, or scream, he doesn't know which he was trying to do for certain.

And then the tide catches him and pushes him forward enough that he can get a foothold. He stumbles and trips and falls and crawls his way to safety, dragged down by his sodden, heavy clothing, but makes it to blessed sand all in one piece.

Bracing his hands on his knees, he wheezes and chokes for air, coughing up water. He hopes that his heart will eventually stop beating so hard, and that Jasper won't notice he's crying at this point.

But Jasper is laughing, loud and hard, and when Edward looks up, all he can see are sharp, gray fins poking out of the water, not all that far away. So many of them, circling and diving down and back up again. It makes Edward sob, and he swears Jasper laughs even harder.

There are three hits that first night on the island.

Edward hitting Jasper, Jasper hitting Edward, and Edward hitting the ground.

―

Edward wakes up alone. The silence is stifling, and it makes him sit up too fast after being knocked out cold. His head spins and pounds like he's had too much ale, but the telling throb in his cheek reminds him that this is Jasper's fault. This is _all_ Jasper's fault. From being marooned on a deserted island to being nearly torn apart by hundreds of sharks, and the awful pain in his head is especially Jasper's fault.

Edward is going to kill him.

If he can find him.

The only sound he can hear around him is the sea washing up onto the sand. There's nothing else. It's alarming ― he's grown so used to life on a ship, constantly surrounded by loud-mouthed sailors, that the quiet feels strange, unwelcome.

It's grown dark enough that Edward can only make out where the trees thicken in the distance and nothing beyond that. He's not eager to wander into the unfamiliar darkness on his own. He sticks to the shoreline as he picks his way around.

The island is small enough that it doesn't take long for Edward to end up on the opposite side of it. It's fully dark, just the moonlight guiding his way, until he spots Jasper's fire. He runs then, fueled by his hastily returning rage, his hate for that man. He's not at all relieved to have found him, not even slightly, or perhaps just a little, but only because of Edward's absolute desire to get his bare hands on Jasper, to hurt him. The fire is a bit of a welcome surprise as well.

"Stop right there," Jasper says menacingly, raising his sword. _His sword_. He did not have a sword the last time Edward had seen him.

And, oh, he has food too.

Edward takes a step forward, hesitating when Jasper raises the sword higher, over the fire, causing it to glint menacingly.

"This is my side of the island," Jasper goes on to tell him. "Take one more step and I'll kill you where you stand." He turns his blade to the side, grinning wickedly at Edward, raising a challenging eyebrow.

Behind Jasper is the dilapidated corpse of a wrecked ship, half shored, half rotten. He must've found his food there, his sword, started his fire with some of the dry wood. To Edward, it seems that Jasper is planning to sit warm, cozy, and fed on 'his' side of the island, while Edward starves, cold and alone.

Jasper gives a smug little laugh at Edward's step backwards, and Edward lets him believe he's standing down, for now.

 _But I'll be back_ , he thinks as he backs away, watching Jasper fill himself with food and drink. Jasper won't be awake much longer, and then Edward will have his revenge.

―

Edward sneaks back around, sticking close to the trees, once Jasper's fire starts to die out. As he draws closer, he can hear Jasper's snores, signaling that he's as fast asleep as Edward hoped he would be. It's easy enough for him to pick his way over the sand to the rotting vessel for supplies.

The first thing that hits him is the smell ― rot and decay. Jasper had daylight when he scavenged for food, Edward has nothing but the moon to guide him. Any food that was left is likely to have gone bad, and what little hadn't will be hard to find, especially considering Jasper had gotten there first.

Edward moves hesitantly into what used to be the hold of the ship, stumbling over and around debris, and finds what he needs. First, a sword, and then the biggest handful of whatever he can find that's edible and hasn't molded completely.

His mouth is as full as his hand when he hears a twig snap in the distance. Probably Jasper, he thinks, but when he stops chewing to listen, he can still hear Jasper's steady snoring. Swallowing around his thick mouthful, he picks his way back out of the ship and carefully looks around the rotting boards to where Jasper's body lies prone on the beach.

There is something black and large circling around Jasper and the fire, drawing closer. It's sniffing at Jasper, whatever it is. Edward doesn't care too much to find out exactly, but he... Well, he doesn't want to think about why he suddenly doesn't want it nosing around Jasper, or what exactly is stopping him from letting it tear Jasper's head off. Maybe he would just rather do that himself. Either way, he steps out from behind the ship, sword firmly in hand and yells as loudly as he can, startling the beast back and Jasper awake.

The thing growls and lunges, stepping on Jasper as it charges toward Edward. It falls back when Edward swings his sword at it, stumbling one of its oddly formed feet into the hot coals of the fire. Yelping, it turns tail and runs away, limping and dragging his burned paw behind him.

Edward breathes a sigh of relief.

"What was that?" Jasper asks, looking dumbstruck where he's still sprawled in the sand.

"I have no idea."

Their eyes meet and just like that, Jasper is scowling, jumping to his feet and raising his sword to Edward.

"I thought I told you to stay on your side of the island."

Outraged, Edward draws his blade up again, glaring at Jasper. "I just saved your life!"

"No one asked you to."

"Oh, so I should have let the thing eat you then?" Edward asks, incredulous, shouting even though mere feet separate them.

"Yes!" Jasper snaps.

"You're an even bigger idiot than I thought."

Jasper takes the first swing, and it's unexpected enough that Edward stumbles back from it. Jasper advances, too much confidence and not enough skill. Edward pushes him back towards the water easily. Jasper's quick, but Edward is quicker, more skillful. Jasper is stupidly brave, and aims for anywhere he can, nearly gutting Edward more than once. But he leaves himself open, doesn't think to protect his sensitive areas. Edward disarms him, sending his sword flying off into the sand.

"Now what?" Edward asks boastfully.

Underestimating Jasper's lack of fear, he lowers his sword slightly, and Jasper attacks. He plows into Edward as hard as he can, sending the both of them and Edward's sword to the sand. Edward scrambles, but doesn't make it far with Jasper's weight on top of him. The first hit is a somewhat weak one to the ribs, then Jasper reels back and hits him harder, the same spot. Edward coughs, struggles to get away, but Jasper is pinning him to the ground, a leg on either side of him.

"Now what?" Jasper growls, repeating Edward's words while he draws back for another hit.

Edward bucks and shoves at Jasper, but it only helps to soften the hits, not stop them completely, and Jasper isn't budging. There's sand in Edward's eyes and mouth and everywhere else, and he can't defend himself; he does his best to block Jasper's blows.

But he hears something, something besides the sound of Jasper hitting him, and reaches out blindly and grabs at Jasper, gripping onto whatever part of him he gets a hold of.

"Wait, wait, listen," he gasps, straining his ears to hear.

Surprisingly, Jasper does pause in his attack. Over the sound of their heavy panting, there it is again. A grumbly-growl that makes them both stiffen.

Jasper lurches forward, shoving Edward further into the sand as he leans so far forward that his chest crushes Edward's nose in the process. Then he's sitting back on top of Edward, Edward's sword in his hand and his eyes searching the wooded darkness. Edward strains his neck trying to see for himself, but his eyes are gritty with sand and the attempt is pointless.

When he brings his eyes back to Jasper again, he finds Jasper looking down at him, and like before, with just a look, they're fighting again.

"Get off of me," Jasper demands, shoving Edward's hands away from where they were still clasped at Jasper's hips, and pushes himself off of Edward, onto his feet.

"I wasn't the one _on_ you," Edward snaps back at him.

Edward gets to his knees, planning to arm himself with Jasper's abandoned sword, but finds Jasper's already there, standing over it and glaring at Edward.

"Go get wood to stoke the fire. That'll scare it off," Jasper says, pointing Edward toward the rotted ship with his blade.

"You go get the wood, I'm better with a sword and at least you know I won't let the thing eat you."

"I have the swords, I give the orders," Jasper says.

"Scared I'll win again?" Edward taunts.

"I seem to recall that you were the one eating the sand," he bites back defensively.

A sharp growl and loud snap cuts them both off. Edward crawls across the sand hurriedly, kneeling at Jasper's feet and reaching around him for the discarded sword. He jumps up, coughing at the pain in his ribcage. He avoids looking at Jasper the entire time, focusing on the trees in the distance. It's easier not looking at him. He doesn't want to kill him so badly if he can't see his face.

"Alright," Jasper says. "I'll get the wood. But you're coming with me."

He grabs a handful of Edward's collar and keeps him out front as they cross over toward the ship. They can hear the beast stalking through the trees, growling as it goes. Edward keeps his sword at the ready, fighting for air as Jasper pushes him along. Edward throws his elbow into Jasper's ribs, earning a hiss and a lungful of cool air when Jasper releases him.

Edward stands guard while Jasper collects wood for the fire. Whatever it is that's out there is hesitant enough not to approach them while they're up and moving around. Hopefully the fire will frighten it further, scare it back to wherever it came from.

The fire catches easily enough, crackling loudly as it burns through the dry wood and coughs sparks up into the dark sky. The animal doesn't approach, but it doesn't retreat either, keeping itself hidden in the shadow of the trees, trampling through the underbrush as it watches them.

Edward chokes back a yawn, casting a quick look in Jasper's direction, and regretting it immediately.

"What?" Jasper barks at him.

"We can take turns sleeping. You might as well go first," Edward replies, tone short and clipped.

Jasper startles him with a loud laugh. "And let you feed me to the beast? Not likely," Jasper answers.

Gritting his teeth, Edward snaps, "Have it your way then," and forces his eyes to stay open, alert.

―

Edward doesn't remember having fallen asleep, but he wakes up to the sun beating down on him, so he must have.

Bolting upright, he groans at the pain that shoots through his ribs, his stomach, his neck, his... everything. Everything hurts.

He cranes his stiff neck and picks Jasper's form out in the distance, standing at the edge of the sea, staring out into it.

It's painful to stand up straight, but he manages, ignoring the bruised ache in his ribs, the throb that's still in his head. Everything is gritty and dry, and he needs a drink. He finds the jug Jasper discarded the night before and swigs from it.

Whatever it is, it's sour and sharp, burning on the way down. But it's wet and that's all that matters, really. He gulps one more mouthful and corks it back up before slowly making his way toward Jasper.

His presence goes seemingly unnoticed as Jasper quietly looks out at the water. Edward wonders what he sees there, but doesn't question him ― he knows he won't get an honest answer from him, and he doesn't care enough to ask anyway.

Jasper's cleaned up, Edward notices. Bathed away the dried sweat, blood, and grime from his skin and tied back his hair.

"Quit staring at me," Jasper grits out between his teeth.

Edward looks away quickly, wants to kick himself for even looking in the first place.

"I don't want to admit it, but as much as it will pain me to say it," Jasper starts, inhaling and exhaling slowly before continuing, "I think the Captain was right."

He doesn't say anything else after that. "About?" Edward asks curiously.

"About the island, you imbecile."

"Oh," Edward says, nodding despite the fact that he still isn't sure what Jasper is talking about.

"Whatever that was in the trees last night, I reckon Captain knew it was here, and I'll bet a pocketful of gold it will be back again at dark."

"Ah," Edward agrees.

"You're going to make me come out with it, then?"

"Come out with what?" Edward urges.

"Gods give me strength," Jasper mutters, then takes another deep breath before rushing out. "I think we'll have to learn to survive with each other, if we don't both want to die. One can only live without sleep for so long, and that creature will be there stalking us until sunrise, it seems. It receded as soon as the first light of dawn burned through, so we'll need to take turns keeping watch."

"I may be more inclined to take my chances on my side of the island, actually," Edward says quietly.

Jasper grits his teeth. "I know what you're trying to do."

"I've no idea what you're on about," Edward replies.

"I rescind my threat to kill you and allow you full rights to my side of the island. And I want to thank you for nobly saving my life. You may also have this sword."

"Who granted you King of this island?"

"I will kill you," he rasps.

"No, I do believe you just rescinded that threat, actually."

"You are insufferable," Jasper snarls, stalking away and tossing Edward's sword at his feet.

Edward smirks and walks out into the water, keeping to the shallows. With a plan to bathe, he looks for Jasper, to check he's far enough off for Edward to remove his trousers without feeling discomfited, but finds him pissing into the water. Disgusted, Edward changes his mind and sits on the beach instead, watching out over the ocean, hoping to find whatever Jasper was looking for.

―

The beast is back at dusk, nosing around through the trees, sniffing, watching, waiting. They keep the fire burning bright and hot, but at great risk. They can only hope that their ship will return for them before they run out of dry wood.

Unwillingly, Jasper dozes off eventually, and Edward tracks the movement of the animal, puts more wood on the fire whenever the beast sounds like it's drawing closer.

Neither of them dies that night, and the next morning, they strip wood off the boat and attempt to dry it with the heat of the burnt coals and the help of the high sun.

Edward misses the ship, the crew. He's bored with nothing to do all day except wait for night to fall and the scary creature of the wood to come out and taunt them. He gets drunk on that what-probably-used-to-be cider and passes out long before it even starts to get dark.

One more night, they make it without dying, or killing each other, but Edward's worse for wear come morning and Jasper is beyond irritated.

Edward can't even recall a day of his time on the ship that he and Jasper went without taking a swing at each other. Jasper's snappish attitude grates at Edward's raw nerves until he's _this close_ to throwing a punch at him. Before he gets the chance, Jasper is gone.

Gone.

Edward paces, scorches his hands flipping heat-dried boards by himself, bathes without Jasper's prying eyes or poor attitude there to disturb him, and resolutely _does not_ worry. Not until the sun starts to sink lower and lower. Then, and only then, does he start to fret. But only for his own well-being. Jasper is essential to Edward's own survival in this place, and he's growing sicker by the minute at the thought of what could've happened, what will happen if Edward is alone against the Night Beast.

He's already stoking the fire up when he spots Jasper in the distance. His bloodied blade is the first thing Edward notices, and he trips over boards in his haste to reach Jasper.

"What happened? Are you alright? Where have you been?"

All the questions tumble out of him before he can even think of what he's saying, what it sounds like ― how it makes him sound like some heartsick girl pining for her love.

"Calm down, mother, I brought you dinner," Jasper says mockingly, raising a large bird into the air before shoving past Edward toward the fire.

He makes Edward pluck it clean and then spears it onto a sharpened limb and roasts it over the flames. Edward's mouth waters at the smell of the meat cooking, feels the hunger in his empty stomach stabbing like a blade running him through. They pick the meat from the bones while it's still sizzling, sucking every last string and bit of fat into their greedy bellies. Taking turns sipping off of a new jug of cider, they watch the sun sink below the horizon and wait for their beast to come.

"Come out here you bloody cowardly bastard. Show your ugly fucking face and let's have it done with," Jasper bellows so suddenly that it makes Edward snort a mouthful of cider out of his nose. "Hasn't got the bollocks," he mutters before rolling over to sleep.

―

Their truce lasts for three more days.

By then Edward is picking fights simply because there's nothing better to do. They've barely lasted through the first half of time on the island, he doesn't even want to think about the time they have left. He waits for Jasper to throw the first punch, pushes him as hard as he ever has, but Jasper won't break. He walks off, he ignores it. It's utterly maddening. Edward has too much energy building up under his skin; he wants the fight, the hurt, the tiredness that only comes with throwing all of his weight into hitting Jasper and taking a knee to the stomach a few times.

Nothing comes of it. Jasper won't rile, won't sink in to the bait. He leaves it be when Edward talks just to provoke him, doesn't flinch when Edward runs into him, shoves at him, even backs away with his hands up when Edward draws his sword and aims it at him.

It's no fun at all.

Just as he's done each night when darkness falls, Jasper readies the fire. Edward can't take it for another second.

He tackles Jasper flat against the sand. "Cut it out," Jasper says, his voice a dull, flat note all the way through. He won't look at Edward. Hasn't looked at him in days. It makes Edward's skin itch, how Jasper _refuses_ to look at him.

Jasper sits up again, but Edward pushes him back down, puts a knee on Jasper's stomach and shoves him harder into the sand. Jasper's eyes stubbornly stay cast off to the side. Edward twists his hands into the cloth at Jasper's shoulders, shakes him by it, doesn't back off when Jasper tries to shove him away, slams Jasper down against the ground.

Everything shifts in an instant. Jasper's eyes snap to Edward's, and Edward grins, knowing that he's going to _ache_ in the morning, feel tired for so long after they're through. Too much time has passed since they last hit each other.

"Your mother's a filthy whore," Edward snarls provokingly.

Jasper throws Edward off of him easily, grapples at him, hits him, knocks against him. Edward has no idea for a few long moments what exactly is happening, it's all a blur of swinging fists and banging knees. Jasper gets him pinned down, holds him there with a bruising grip.

"Don't you ever talk about my mother that way again, or I'll cut your throat," Jasper threatens darkly.

Edward sputters a laugh, tries to wrench free, but Jasper's not moving. Jaw jutted out defiantly, Edward stares up at Jasper unblinkingly. "Fuck you," Edward wheezes.

Without any hesitation, Jasper swiftly and easily manages to flip Edward over onto his front. Edward chokes on sand, inhaling it and feeling it grit between his teeth. Jasper pins him anew, face down, his weight holding Edward in place.

"Now who's the whore?" Jasper asks.

Edward fights an arm loose from where Jasper has them held to his sides with his knees and reaches back to hit him, push him, anything. Jasper simply catches his arm, twists it behind Edward's back, and holds it in the space between where their bodies are pressed together.

"You're the filthy fucking whore," he growls against the back of Edward's ear.

Using every ounce of strength he has, Edward gets his knees underneath him, pushing himself up. He realizes his mistake too late, once Jasper is already twisting his arm further back, so close to pulling it out of socket that Edward can taste it.

"Arse in the air like a proper whore," he says harshly, roughly pushing Edward's trousers down to his thighs.

"What are you doing?" Edward gasps, taking in twice as much sand as he spits out.

"Exactly what you wanted," Jasper says.

"N-no," Edward stammers, kicking feebly against the sand.

"No?" Jasper asks, rocking forward so Edward can feel where Jasper's gone stiff.

Gagging on another mouthful of sand, Edward stills. Feeling _that, there_ , makes heat rush across the surface of his skin, pool down deep in his belly. He can't hear anything past the sound of his racing heart, can't think.

"Oh," he says, falling back into it, levering up onto his free hand to push himself further against it.

It's new, different ― unlike anything before, and he's drunk on the feeling. He doesn't want a fight, not _now_. _This_ , whatever Jasper was going to do, he wants _that_.

"Yeah," Edward says, dropping his head down and nodding from where it hangs loose on his shoulders.

Jasper lets go of his arm and Edward brings it under himself, pushing up off of the sand, but doesn't move any more than that, stays there on all fours, bare down to his knees.

Jasper moves away only enough to unlace his trousers, then he's there again, skin on skin, heat against heat. A warm drizzle follows; Jasper's fingers catch the oil before it runs too far. His roughened fingertips smooth it in, rub at Edward gently for a moment before breaching. Two push in at once, deep as they can go, then twist out of him. The oil slicks their way, but it still hurts, burns with the stretch of resistant skin and muscle. He shoves his way into Edward's body again, parting his fingers this time as they pull out.

It takes a minute to stop feeling so sharp, so foreign. Edward eases into it, goes with it, grinds his teeth against the new burn of a third finger inside. The empty feeling when Jasper takes his hand away is worse; he can feel himself closing up around nothing, a flutter of muscle wanting something to grip onto.

When Jasper is there again, it's not with fingers. The blunt, slick head of his cock pushes in, opening Edward up so far, it feels like he couldn't possibly be any more full. Pushing in the first time hurts again, but the drag of it on the way out is too good. His back arches with it, he rocks back into it, feels it so deep and sliding out again, a shock of pleasure.

Jasper takes hold of Edward by the hips and pulls him back more sharply, faster, until he's panting just as hard as Edward and their skin is slapping together with the same quick tempo as their heartbeats. A quick drag of Jasper's hand between Edward's legs, along the length of his cock, and Edward is biting down on his fist to keep quiet, to ride through it without making sounds like you'd hear in a whorehouse.

Jasper finishes quickly after him, and they both collapse into the sand, sticky with sweat, making the sand cling to their skin worse than ever.

Edward is dozing, his body heavy in a satisfied and sleepy kind of way, when a deep rumble startles him into consciousness.

It's dark. They didn't get the fire lit and the sun must have set while they were resting.

The thing, the beast is close. Edward can hear it moving, coming nearer, sniffing and snuffling its way across the sand. Jasper is at Edward's back, pressed up close behind him. Something pushes at his foot and Edward stiffens, gasping in fear.

"Shh," Jasper breathes against the back of his neck. Edward tries to be still, tries not to make a sound, not to move a muscle. He's barely breathing.

It noses up his leg, between them, laps at his stomach, and comes closer, higher, nearly to Edward's face. He feels Jasper's muscles coil behind him, and with a jerk of movement and a grotesque cutting sound, the thing _screams._ Edward shrinks back at the sound, and Jasper wraps his arm tight around him. The thing wavers for a moment, and Edward shuts his eyes, knowing that this could very well be it. Jasper's stab didn't kill the beast, but wounded him enough, and it would either fight or flee.

He doesn't open his eyes to find out, but he thinks that if he can still feel where Jasper is smashed against him, then he's probably still alive.

Neither of them sleep, they stay right where they are, tucked together in the dark silence. Neither of them moves until light has come, and once they do, neither looks back. They go their separate ways and stay there.

―

Edward walks halfway to the other side of the island to wash off. His thoughts are a jumble of nothing that makes any sense. He's far too confused to put any one thought straight.

He trudges waist deep into the warm, clear water and scrubs the dried crust of Jasper's seed from between his thighs, rubs away the sticky blood that dripped down the hilt of the sword, off of Jasper's wrist, onto him.

Moving closer to shore, he sits in the shallow waves and tries to clear his head.

What happened the night before, Edward can't make sense of that. He has no idea where it came from, why it happened. The newly shared feeling of indifference since their truce notwithstanding, there had always just been a sense of competitive malice between them. He can't place this sudden state of almost-fondness he feels, doesn't want to equate it with Jasper, still wants to hate him ― though he knows quite honestly that his hate for the man has never been as true as he wanted it to be.

There's an ache inside of him that he's never felt before, so different from the usual residual pain of a fight, and more than anything, he wants to dislike it. It throbs like the bruises, reminding him of each place Jasper's been. He doesn't want to _want_ it again, but can't help feeling like he does ― wants it worse than any fight.

He sits in the ocean and curses his Captain, wishes to be back out at sea and further away from Jasper so maybe he could stop thinking about him for one second. He doesn't like all of the change that's coming on so quickly, but he doesn't know how to stop it either.

―

The evasion stops once dark falls again. They have no other choice but to be close to each other then ― that or risk their lives. Edward obstinately acts as though nothing has changed, and for his part, Jasper is the same. Neither of them speaks, resolutely keeping their eyes off the other. It's the least comfortable Edward has ever felt.

Edward is keeping watch for the night, staring unseeingly into the flames while Jasper sleeps, listening to the steady pace of the animal beyond the line of trees.

It's a clear night, leaving the bright moon to shine its strange light down on the world below, turning the beach a gleaming white color. Edward has this sick feeling in his stomach that something's awry, but thinks nothing of it considering what happened the night previous. Until it hits him that something is amiss, that the steady rhythm in the distance can't be right, not when Jasper nearly gutted the beast so recently.

"Jasper," he whispers hurriedly. Edward kicks him when he doesn't wake fast enough.

"Wha―" Jasper slurs sleepily, then rolls to face the flames, eyes widened, listening, waiting. "What?" he hisses anxiously.

"Listen," Edward says, following the sound of movement closely. There's no hitch in the animal's step whatsoever. He moves clean and sound.

It can't... it can't be the same one.

"Is it coming closer? What are you just sitting there for?"

"Shh," Edward hushes, straining his ears. He crawls closer to Jasper and sits beside him, listening for any change. There is none. "There's more than one of them," he says, fear settling into his stomach. It doesn't bode well for them to have more than one of these beasts to fight off. But they seem hesitant enough to keep away from anything bright, which doesn't give Edward much hope when he realizes their supply of wood is quickly dwindling.

"I just hear the one," Jasper says, then his brow puckers and Edward can see it sinking in, that there can't just be the one if they're being stalked by an uninjured animal. "Oh," he whispers, meeting Edward's stare.

Edward's heart stutters in his chest, and Jasper looks away quickly, back out into the woods.

"What do you think it wants? It could have killed us already..." Jasper says, rubbing wearily at his eyes.

"I don't know," Edward answers.

―

The first half of the next day is almost normal. They keep their distance, avoid looking at each other, but it's not so strained, not so painfully quiet. Most of the unease between them disappeared after they started speaking again. But a trace of discomfort lingers with the knowledge of what happened.

It's that damned jar of oil that causes Edward to break.

Jasper has the jar between his knees, dipping his fingers into it, and then drawing them out to rub the slickness between his fingers.

It makes Edward flush, makes him shift around, feeling too hot, like his skin is too tight.

He has no idea what Jasper is doing, but it's making a mess, the oil dripping down the back of his wrist and onto his dusty trousers.

It's driving Edward _mad_.

When it comes to Jasper, Edward has always had trouble thinking before reacting, and he doesn't think through what he's doing before he tackles Jasper back into the sand.

Jasper looks stunned, sprawled on his back with his eyes wide and his mouth gaping. Edward momentarily wants to punch him in the face, but then he quickly sits back and unlaces his trousers instead. His thoughts are half-formed, vague things fluttering through his head; he doesn't care enough to slow down to think.

"What the―" Jasper says, sitting up. His jaw remains unhinged, hanging there while he watches Edward free himself from his pants. He stares at Edward a beat too long, making Edward want to hit him again, but like before, he changes his mind before he can go through with it. This time he leans in to kiss Jasper.

Jasper makes a startled sound against Edward's mouth, but responds soon enough, all vigor and recklessness, with a hint of desperation that Edward didn't expect. Jasper kisses him back, tongue and teeth and sinful mouth, sucking and licking and _biting_ at him.

Edward's trousers are kicked off, his tunic tossed aside, and Jasper's pants are unlaced for convenience and nothing more. Edward stays sitting atop him, takes Jasper's slick fingers inside first, and then the hard length of his cock when he's ready for it.

Their mouths barely separate. Edward keeps his lips pressed right to Jasper's, panting against him as he drops down on his cock, feels the burn of it stretching him open. Jasper keeps him close, fingers clutching at Edward's hips, at his back and his thighs, soft little sounds working up his throat.

It feels so good, Edward can't even bring himself to care how dirty he must look. In the broad daylight, completely exposed, sitting down in Jasper's lap like that. His cock is straining, rutting up against Jasper's stomach every time he moves, leaving shiny smears of wetness on his tan skin. He's never felt so filthy; he's never felt so goddamn _good._

"Oh, fuck," he gasps against Jasper's mouth. His fingers grapple against dry sand before digging into Jasper's shoulders, pushing him flat on his back and riding down _hard_ on his cock.

Jasper reaches between them, wrapping his fingers tight around Edward's leaking prick and tugging, twisting, pulling in sharp, quick jerks. Edward stays sitting flat against his thighs, pushing into Jasper's hand and digging his fingers into Jasper's chest. His eyes fall closed and his body goes rigid as he comes, so much harder than when he brings himself off.

Jasper follows quickly after him, one hand still loosely fisting Edward's spent cock and the other gripping with bruising force at his hip as Jasper pulses deep inside of Edward. Exhausted, he lies back in the sand and rubs the sweat from his eyes, pushes his hair back from his forehead.

Awkwardly, Edward shifts to climb off of him, ignoring the quiet squelch when their bodies separate. Jasper wipes his hand on his trousers and tucks himself away, and Edward tries to think of a way to walk to the water naked and dripping while still retaining some small sense of dignity.

In the end, they simply avoid looking at each other and don't say a word until the second half of the day disappears into night.

―

The sun rises and Edward wakes up stiff and sore to the sight of Jasper standing at the edge of the woods with his sword drawn.

"What are you doing?" Edward asks quickly, slurring the words together into one long barely decipherable mumble.

Jasper looks back at him over his shoulder, gives a nonchalant shrug, and steps through the band of trees.

Edward jumps to his feet, stumbling through the sand and calling, "Wait, Jasper, wait." He ignores the tense ache that's running through his muscles and doesn't stop until he's at Jasper's side.

"What?" Jasper asks sharply, not meeting Edward's eyes.

"What are you doing? You're going to get yourself killed!"

"Stop worrying. Why do you care anyway?"

"Because I do, get back on the beach," Edward demands, reaching out to grab a hold of Jasper's arm, fully intent on dragging him back if that's what it'll take.

"Get off," Jasper snaps, shaking free. "Don't tell me you love me now or something," he says harshly.

At that, Edward scoffs, barking out a loud laugh. "No. No, of course not, you bastard." He takes a swing at Jasper's face, and nearly loses his hand for his effort when Jasper raises his blade to defend himself.

"Right. I'll be back before dark," Jasper drawls coolly.

"No!"

Edward gets a tight grip on Jasper's arm again. Jasper spins around, and Edward clenches his jaw against the punch he knows he's going to get and is surprised when he finds himself backed up against a tree. Jasper's mouth pushes against his with bruising force, and Edward sputters before pressing into the kiss, dragging Jasper closer.

He thinks they'll go back to the beach, do again what they've done before, and that will be that, but the next thing he knows, Jasper is walking away, leaving Edward to stare after him in shock.

"Wait," he calls feebly.

"I'll be back before dark," Jasper repeats.

Edward charges back toward the beach, picking his sword up from where he'd left it in the sand, and runs again into the trees. Jasper is nowhere in sight, and the further Edward goes, the darker it gets. Heart pounding, he spins around, eyes wide in search of any sign of Jasper. There isn't one.

With little hope, Edward picks his way back out onto the beach, resigned to wait for his return rather than risk both of their lives. In the thick of the trees, he won't be able to track Jasper down, and if he doesn't come back, they're both dead anyway.

Indeed, Jasper does return before dark, limping and bloodied, but dragging something rather large behind him. Edward's heart nearly pounds out of his chest at the sight of the overgrown, deformed animal.

"Don't know what it is, but when I found it, it was dead asleep, 'til I stabbed it at least."

Edward stands and stabs his sword into the sand. Jasper doesn't notice Edward crossing the beach until he's too late to stop him. Jasper hisses painfully when Edward knocks him to the ground.

"Edward, I'm not doing this―" he starts to say tiredly, but Edward cuts him off with a harsh kiss.

His mouth tastes sharp and coppery, but Edward can't bring himself to care. Jasper's kill is left forgotten as they tear into each other, hungry and frantic.

"Don't do that again," Edward whispers angrily.

"What?" Jasper asks confusedly, blinking his not-swollen eye open to peer at Edward questioningly.

"Shut up," Edward growls, pushing Jasper back into the sand again.

Edward's teeth sink deep into Jasper's shoulder, leaving more bruises to be seen in the morning, as Jasper fucks him senseless.

―

Edward wakes with a start at the feeling of sand being kicked into his face.

"Fuck you. Tired," he mumbles, covering his face.

"Hmm?" Jasper hums against the back of his neck, and Edward jerks fully into consciousness at the feeling.

Jasper's arm is looped over his waist, the long expanse of his naked body still nestled against the back of Edward's. If he's not kicking sand in Edward's face, who is?

Edward slits one eye open, staring into the blinding sun for a moment until his Captain tilts his head, his eyebrows high on his forehead.

"Fuck," Edward gasps quietly, sitting up abruptly and grabbing for the closest set of clothing.

"Gotten lazy, I see," Carlisle says easily. "And apparently you two have been getting on rather better than expected."

Edward flushes a deep crimson, and behind him, he hears Jasper snort.

"Don't get your hopes up," Jasper sighs, stretching out shamelessly across the sand.

"Oh, lover's quarrels are what I've got to look forward to now then?" Giving Jasper no time to answer, or Edward time to blush any harder, he says, "If you don't want the entire crew seeing all your little bits and pieces, you'll want to put some clothes on."

"If you call that little, I'd hate to see what yours looks like," Jasper replies indignantly.

Edward looks to their Captain, noticing the fond tilt to his lips, rather than any disapproval at Jasper's mouthiness.

"Glad to see you're alive," Carlisle says, clapping Edward on the shoulder.

Feeling out of sorts, Edward smiles, an odd mixture of relief, happiness, and anger at their Captain washing through him.

He never thought he'd see him again, and most definitely not with Jasper amiably at his side.

The helpless smile is still in place as they all walk together toward the ship. "Me too," he says.


End file.
